How I met
by fefe77777
Summary: part ofthe SFNA series."Of course my Matthew. What type of story?" Francis inquired smiling. "Something new." Matthew said snuggling into the covers. "Hmmmm something new . . . something new, how about the story of how I met the love of my life?"
1. your mother

Something fluffy I did during a shortened day school. English class is quite boring when others do half-assed presentations.

Disclaimer: Hetalia doesn't belong to me!

In a room in Paris a young boy by the name of Matthew Williams-Kirkland Bonnefoy was crying, hugging a polar bear to his little chest. A large flash of lightning came followed by the load boom of thunder. The boy quivered into the covers even more.

Deciding he needed comfort, Matthew slowly crawled out of bed and walked though the halls and toward the Master bedrooms.

"Papa tu es réveillé?" he asked sniffing back tears.

"Matthew? Quel est le problème?" He asked getting out of bed going toward his son.

"I-I can't sleep" he said quietly, holding his stuffed polar bear closer to his chest. Francis picked him up and got him settled into his bed.

"Can you tell me a story?" Matthew asked needing something to take his mind off of the storm.

"Of course my Matthew. What type of story?" Francis inquired smiling.

"Something new." Matthew said snuggling into the covers.

"Hmmmm something new . . . something new, how about the story of how I met the love of my life." Francis said fondly, a far away look in his eyes.

"I thought mama was the love of your life?" Matthew asked looking confused, storm already forgotten.

"Exactly . . ." Francis stated.

_Francis had just finished setting up camp. He had come to explore the new land called England. Apparently Ecosse had found yet another charge to take care of. That poor unfortunate soul, having to live with someone like that! Francis decided it was time to catch up on his beauty sleep, he didn't get much on that damned ship. Finding a shady tree a ways away from camp he settled on the ground to sleep, but before he could even close his eye an arrow can flying in his direction. He let out a (manly) scream. He heard a rustle in the bushes; he scrambled to get his sword. Out of the bushes came a small figure, dressed in a hooded cape with the most atrocious hair, grabbed the arrow and tried to walk away. He grabbed on to the figures hood and pulled, making the child fall. _

"_What was that for?" the child screamed glaring at Francis._

"_For attacking me, vous mioche!" Francis glared_

"_What does vu myoshe mean?" the child asked, big green eyes getting even bigger. _

"_It means 'you little brat'." Francis stated, unintentionally smiling at the little one. The child frowned._

"_What is your name little one?" Francis inquired._

"_I'm England!" The chilled said with a smile. Francis looked down somewhat amazed. This little __**thing**__ was England? _

"_Who're you?" The child asked._

"_I am the human personification of the great nation of France. You can call me Francis." Francis said bowing, now just about face to face to England. _

"_Oh, well I should get going. Big brother Fang said not to talk to that 'queer ol' frenchmen' if he ever comes by. So, Bye!" The child shouted back happily and ran away with _his_ arrow. Francis looked toward the retreating figure shocked. _

'_That definitely sounds like Ecosse.' He thought. He Frowned, shook his head, and turned away to go back to camp. _

_- The Next Day -_

_Francis was now face to face with a glaring England, who was pushing dark blonde bangs away from _his_ face. _

"_What do you want frog?" England said. Francis gave _him_ a weird look, as he watched small hands messing with unruly hair. _

"_Frog?" Francis asked taken aback.._

"_Well?" England shouted, giving Francis, in his opinion, a venomous glare._

"_I was wondering if you'd like me to help you with that hair of yours." Francis stated. _

"_What's wrong with my hair!" England asked, grabbing onto _his_ locks._

"_It is obviously in your way mon ami. I could cut it for you" Francis said kneeling down to the _boy's_ eye level. _

"_My big brothers said not to though." The young _boy_ stated. _

"_Well it is your decision mon ami. You would look much better with shorter hair though." Francis stated._

"_Really? Well . . . ok!" England said happily._

"_Good choice Angleterre." Francis said smiling. He settled the young _boy_ in front of him and took the scissors that were in his bag and started snipping away. _

_- A few minutes later -_

"_Done!" Francis yelled feeling accomplished. He took out a mirror from his bag and let the young _boy_ see _himself.

"_What do you think?" Francis asked. The young boy's fingers grabbed onto the mirror. _

"_It's wonderful! I gotta show big brother." England screamed getting up and running away. _

"_Thank you!" England called back._

_Francis smiled to himself and packed up._

_- The Next Day -_

_Francis was sitting near the tree he met England at thinking about the young _lad.

_Francis then heard rather loud stomping and cursing. Then all of the sudden he was face to face with Ecosse, who was holding young Angleterre, whose face was buried in Ecosses' shoulder and Irlande, Irlande du Norde and Pays de Gales, all looking very angry. Fang grabbed Francis's' collar and pulled him to stand up. _

"_What did you do to Abigail!" Fang yelled in Fances' face. _

"_What are you talking about? Who is Abigail?" Franics asked confused. In all his time on earth he never met anyone named Abigail._

"_This would be Abigail." Fang said as they all pointed to Angleterre, glaring._

"_Angleterre, you're a girl?" Francis asked confused. He stared at the young figure who slowly turned her head toward him._

"_Mmm hmm I'm sorry I thought you knew." Abigail said making a noise of confirmation and nodding, jumping off Scotland. _

"_I'm sorry I cut off your hair." Francis said kneeling down and grabbing her small hand._

"_It's alright. If you like it then I like it" She said giving him a small smile, blushing. Francis leaned in and kissed her forehead and gave her a smile, her brothers were appalled. Abigail fell to the ground, a dazed look on her face. Her brothers decided to jump in._

"_She's to young to be thinking bout' boys . . ." Fang began._

"_Besides her brothers. You damn pervert! Patrick and Paul finished. The three oldest advanced towards Francis a murderous aura around them, looking at him with glares that promised pain._

_Pervert! C'mon let's wash his icky germs off ya." Wales said tugging up Abigail and leading her towards home._

"And that mon Matthew is how I met . . ." He cut himself off. The storm was long gone and Matthew had been lulled to sleep. The story might have put Matthew at peace but he was missing his Angleterre even more. It doesn't seem like a bad time to make a surprise visit to his island girl and end their stupid fight. Francis fell asleep with a plan to do just that.

_****-**** The End****-****_

So how was that? Cute right? Hope you enjoyed it. I like to write fluff. Can you tell? Any thanks for reading and please review!

_****-****_Translations_****-****_

Please excuse the probably wrong translations of incorrect use. I do not speak any of the languages included into these fics . . .

Ecosse = Scotland

vous mioche = you little brat

mon ami = my friend

Angleterre = England

Irlande = Ireland

Irlande du Norde = North Ireland

Pays de Gales = Wales

Quel est le problème? = What is the problem?

tu es reveille? = You awake?


	2. your father

The spin off of the 'How I met your Mother' fic I wrote.

Disclaimer: Hetalia doesn't belong to me!

It was a stormy night in Europe. There was a vicious thunderstorm blowing. In the room of Alfred F. Jones-Kirkland Bonnefoy the young boy was shivering under his covers.

"Heroes don't cry . . . heroes don't cry . . ." he chanted to himself, tears pricking his eyes. A large flash of lightning came followed by the load boom of thunder. Alfred decided he needed to go to his mother, to make sure she was ok of course.

Alfred slowly crawled out of bed and walked through the dark halls and toward the Master bedroom. He pushed the semi open door of the bedroom open. Another flash of thunder came across the sky.

"Ma? You awake?" Alfred asked in a small quivering voice. He walked up to his parents' bed side and tugged at the covers.

"Hmm? Alfred what's wrong?" Abigail said rubbing her eyes.

"I-I couldn't sleep" he said looking up at his mother. Abigail's gaze softened. She pulled up the covers.

"Well come on now" She patted the spot next to her. Alfred quickly scrambled to the top of the bed and snuggled into his mothers' side. Abigail started stroking his head lovingly.

"How bout a story to help you sleep?" She asked the still shaking Alfred. Alfred nodded.

"Can you tell the one of how you and papa met." He said softly. Abigail looked down and smiled.

"Of course. Well you see it all started . . ."

_In the country now known as England an extremely young figure sat alone in a clearing. The figure had long dark blonde hair that was extremely messy; an oversized hooded green cloak covered the rest of the body. Said young figure was playing with a bow and arrow. Now who would ever give a young child these things we will never know. The arrow shot threw the air and hit the stem of an apple which promptly fell to the floor._

"_Yes!" said figure exclaimed. The short figure ran up to the apple and grabbed it and set it down to join four others on a piece of cloth. _

"_One more." She looked up with determination in the big green eyes. She grabbed the last arrow and aimed ready to fire, sadly it had missed and gone way off course. Then a slight scream was heard. She quickly followed the sound pushing though a thick bush to it's origin to see a tall man, to little green eyes anyway, with golden blonde hair frantically reaching for a sword. Looking around for the arrow and finally spotting it she grabbed it and tried to get away without notice. Then a hand grabbed the hood of the cloak and pulled the poor thing back, making the figure fall to the ground, who quickly got up to turn around and glare at the man._

"_What was that for!" She screamed, extremely miffed at the man. _

"_For attacking me, vous mioche!" He glared at the short creature._

"_What does vu myoshe mean?" She asked, staring up with wide eyes, somewhat intrigued at the new language._

"_It means 'you little brat'." He stated, unintentionally smiling at the little one. She frowned. _

"_What is your name little one?" He inquired._

"_I'm England!" She said with a smile. The man looked down eyes wide._

"_Who're you?" she asked._

"_I am the human personification of the great nation of France. You can call me Francis." He said bowing, now just about face to face to England. _

"_Oh, well I should get going. Big brother Fang said not to talk to that 'queer ol' frenchmen' if he ever comes by. So, Bye!" She shouted back happily and ran away with her arrow. _

_- The Next Day -_

_England glared at the figure in front of her, pushing unruly dark blonde locks out of her face. She had an argument with her dear big brothers and was a little moody at the moment_

"_What do you want frog?" She asked Francis, messing with her hair even more. _

"_Frog?" Francis asked looking shocked._

"_Well?" She glared again._

"_I was wondering if you'd like me to help you with that hair of yours." Francis asked her. _

"_What's wrong with my hair!" England asked, grabbing onto a stray_ _lock._

"_It is obviously in your way mon ami. I could cut it for you" Francis said kneeling down to_ _Abigail's'_ _eye level. _

"_My big brothers said not to though." She stated._

"_Well it is your decision mon ami. You would look much better with shorter hair though." Francis stated._

"_Really? Well . . . ok!" England happily agreed. ._

"_Good choice Angleterre." Francis said._ _Abigail felt herself being lifted up and set back down in front of Francis and then felt scissors cutting away at her hair._

_- A few minutes later -_

"_Done!" Francis yelled. Abigail was handed a mirror and she took a look at herself._

"_What do you think?" Francis asked. Abigails' small hands grabbed onto the mirror._

"_It's wonderful! I gotta show big brother." England yelled joyfully, getting up and running towards home. She paused. _

"_Thank you!" Abigail yelled then continued running home._

_Her brothers weren't to happy when she got home._

_- The Next Day -_

"_Fang! He didn't do anything!" Abigail yelled hitting her brother on the shoulder._

"_You come home with yer hair chopped off, and ya say he didn't do anything?" Fang answered angrily letting out a few curses under his breath. Her other brothers who were just as angrey nodded. Abigail just hid her face in his shoulder._

"_I wanted to cut it." Abigail mumbled._

"_I don believe that fer a second." Fang answered. More curses flowed out of his mouth, and then he spotted a mop of blonde hair under a tree. He went through the bushes to see Francis, he grabbed Francis's' collar and pulled him to stand up. _

"_What did you do to Abigail!" Fang yelled in Frances' face. _

"_What are you talking about? Who is Abigail?" Franics asked. _

"_This would be Abigail." Fang said. Abigail saw her brothers point at her. _

"_Angleterre, you're a girl?" Francis asked in a confused voice. At the sound of his voice Abigail turned to face Francis._

"_Mmm hmm I'm sorry I thought you knew." Abigail said making a noise of confirmation and nodding, jumping off Scotland with difficulty. _

"_I'm sorry I cut off your hair." Francis said kneeling down and grabbing her small hand._

"_It's alright. If you like it then I like it" Abigail said giving him a small smile, blushing. She felt a kiss to her forehead. Abigail fell to the ground. All she heard and saw were her brothers getting in front of her._

"_She's to young to be thinking bout' boys . . ." Fang began._

"_Besides her brothers. You damn pervert! Patrick and Paul finished. _

_Pervert! C'mon let's wash his icky germs off ya." Abigail felt herself being lead somewhere else by Wynne as she stumbled along._

"And that's how I met that bloody. . ." Abigail cut herself off. The storm was long gone and Alfred had long been lulled to sleep. The story might have put Alfred at peace but now she was missing her dear hubby even more. A tear slowly made its way down her cheek; she wiped it away and sighed. The peaceful breathing of her son lulled her into a restless sleep, full of memories of the past.

_****-****The End****-****_

_Done! Ok that's it for this short two shot. :3 please review!_

_****-****Translations****-****_

_Please excuse the probably wrong translations of incorrect use. I do not speak any of the languages included into these fics . . . _

_vous mioche = you little brat_

Angleterre = England

mon ami = my friend


End file.
